Still Restless, Just Wiser, or Not

A person, even without wanting to, ends up comparing themselves to others — subconsciously…
Especially to those they admire, like, or find inspiring.

Maybe this habit — or let’s call it a trait — was once a part of me too, or maybe it still is.
But when you’ve crossed almost four decades of life, something shifts.
You begin to fall in love with yourself — not in arrogance, but in acceptance.
You start to see your own rhythm, your own imperfections, your own restlessness. You start owning yourself.

And speaking of restlessness — I think I’ve always had that in me.
That inability to sit still when emotions stir, the need to say one more thing when one message could’ve been enough.
I could totally relate (in parts) when I read this:

I love the restless kind.
The chaotic, passionate, unfiltered, defiant, overly sensitive, beautifully discontent souls — a mess of contradictions.
The ones whose thoughts spill over mid-sentence, mid-feeling, mid-breath.
Who run out of words trying to explain the storms they carry within — sometimes out loud, sometimes only in the quiet conversations they have inside their heads.
The ones who speak fearlessly of their fears, wild desires, and impossible dreams — without worrying about being “too much.”
Whose eyes light up before their story even reaches their lips.
Who aren’t afraid to color outside the lines, whose skies are never just blue.
Who send two more messages to say what one could — because their hearts don’t know how to hold back.
Who can’t sit at tables that don’t overfill their glasses.

_sr

They always crave more.
Seek more.
Of everything.

What happens with people like us is that we do everything in extremes — we think in extremes, we feel in extremes.
When it comes to someone we start feeling attached to, we don’t just like them, we care deeply.
For people like us, friends aren’t just fun buddies to hang out with and go our separate ways afterward.
We think about them, we care about them, and for a while, they start living somewhere inside our system.

But the mistake we make is expecting the same kind of intensity in return.
And when that doesn’t happen, we feel disappointed — as if we’ve somehow been deprived of friendship.

Maybe it’s time to stop putting all our expectations on one or two people.
Let’s have a movie buddy we can talk films and games with.
A coffee buddy to share a cup of coffee or maybe a beer fizzy soft drink ;)))
A music buddy or a talk buddy for those late-night deep conversations.

Let’s stop expecting too much.
Friends are meant to give us a hand — not all the time, because they have their own lives
— but to be there just enough to lighten ours.

Without expectations.
Just presence.
Just connection.
Just being.

Being a giver, I’ve often overextended my empathy and become too emotionally invested.
That drains my emotional tank, and often, it isn’t refilled by the people I’ve invested in.
I had to learn to pull back — to give less of myself, to set boundaries, and to protect my peace.

I gave too much and had to step back from those who used me emotionally.
It’s not easy, especially when it’s family.
But I’ve learned that I have to make myself my #1 priority.
If I don’t take care of myself, I’m no good for anyone else.

So, I grounded myself — from the people who drained me.
For some, it was just a few days.
For others, I’ve kept the distance, because I don’t want to be drained or guilted again.

At times I thought I’d succeeded — that I’d learned to protect myself — but you can’t change what you are. You can tame it a little, learn a little, tailor your reactions, but you can’t erase the essence of your being. And maybe that’s not a flaw after all — maybe that’s what makes us achingly human.